Purple Hat of Doom
by Darkness's minion
Summary: What started out as a normal day becomes more and more warped. Is Atobe’s hair safe? Who sent the perverted love letter? Is Jiroh in love? Does Mizuki’s fashion sence threaten to destroy the Hyotei team? AND WHY is Kabaji asking what an uke is!
1. The note

Heh, my first PoT fic, and well, my first fic in over a year. Hope I stay inspired for this one! Oh and I warn you now, I've had few chances to get real grasps on the Hyotei team members outside of chibi episodes. I actually have never seen Atobe talk, so my idea of him is the exaggerated one from fics (which I don't read many of either..). Ah well, I hope they're not too OOC! Anyway, I don't own Prince of Tennis.. or Atobe.. or any of the few members of Hyotei team mentioned in this chapter. Though I do own Atobe's frilly pink shirt of doom! *laughs maniacally*  
  
Warning: Some OOC, yaoi suggestions and/or pairings, Atobe being a prick, Random Insanity  
  
~ = p.o.v change  
  
Atobe opened his locker in the Hyotei locker room. A familiar smirk dawned upon his face as he picked up his usual pile of a dozen or so love letters. He flipped quickly through them, paying no attention to the all-too-uncreative "you're so beautiful" and "please love me! I am not worthy" letters before he paused at a slightly more direct one. It was a short message printed on a blank card, and did not contain the sender's name. It read somewhere along the lines of "I want to make hot man-love to you. Your uke ass is mine!"   
  
Unfazed Atobe simply tucked the card into his shirt pocket and proceeded to throw the rest into the nearby trash bin. Too bad he had arrived late today, how he enjoyed reading his proclamations of love in front of his fellow team mates. Sadly he had spent more than his usual half hour styling his hair. He had been horrified to find that, when styled, a few stray hairs where out of place. Of course he had immediately scheduled a hair cut, but he would have to wait until the lunch hour.   
  
Now don't get the wrong idea, Atobe wasn't usually this concerned with his appearance. It was alright if his fellow team mates saw this obvious atrocity, he had been through thick and thin with them. No, he was taking extra care because today was a special event. An event that could not tolerate him being anything but perfect.  
  
Today, the Seigaku and Fudomine regulars where coming to have a mock tournament in Hyotei's superior facilities. The old women at Seigaku had made some kind of agreement with Fudomine that this would be an opportunity to practice their tennis skills, since there where no immediate competitions to insure they stay in tip top form. Or something along those lines. Atobe could not tolerate the idea of Tachibana getting a second chance to challenge Tezuka while he did not. (Even there seems to be no evidence that Tezuka has played against Tachibana, I'm now making it so! *maniacal laughter*)  
  
So at 1:00 the courts would be filled with sweaty men, and one of said men would have perfect hair to match the rest of him. With some hesitation, Atobe tore his eyes away from the gorgeous mirror he had become distracted by during the long paragraph above, and headed out to the tennis courts.   
  
After only moments of admiring his superior team (they couldn't possibly be defeated by Seigaku again, they where just too good!) Wakashi asked for a game. Well of course we all know who would win, but that wasn't the point. So Atobe agreed, deeming the match to be a satisfactory warm up.  
  
After a while the warm-up was proving to be warmer than Atobe had initially anticipated, though not because Wakashi was actually putting up a challenge, no that's just silly. It was probably just a warm day. That makes much more sense!   
  
Well anyway, Atobe decided it was an opportune moment to share his beautiful body with the world. So, of course, he utilized the fact this is a fic and not the show (where there is certainly not enough man-flesh displayed) and he removed his shirt and set it down on the bench before returning to his game.  
  
~  
  
Jiroh yawned as he entered the training area of his team. Why was he forced to wake up so early on a Saturday? He wasn't expected to play until the afternoon!   
  
Slowly, his half closed eyes passed briefly over his surroundings, naturally searching for a place to "rest his eyes". After pausing briefly on his captain's half naked form, he found what he was looking for.   
  
He approached the bench nearest Atobe's court. And what a perfect bench it was; long, wide, in the shade... and oh look! Someone had left him a pillow. He smiled sleepily and laid down, positioning his head perfectly on the piece of material he had interpreted as a pillow. Though after a few moments he was displeased to find something poking him from beneath the material. It wasn't a big deal, I mean he could fall asleep anywhere, but why settle when the problem was easily solvable?   
  
Reluctantly, Jiroh brought himself back into a sitting position and lifted the shirt that had been serving as a head rest. He watched as a piece of paper fell out of the shirt, and grabbed it out of the air, before it could hit the ground.   
  
He flipped it over and found some text that certainly shook him from his stupor. Eyes wide, Jiroh read the contents over and over again. This couldn't mean what he thought? Then again, there wasn't much mistaking the message. There are only so many things "hot-man love" could possibly mean.   
  
Sighing, he forced his racing thoughts to try to come to a logical conclusion. Everyone knew this was the opportune place near the courts to nap, and they also knew napping was Jiroh's favoured passtime (only to be beaten out by tennis of course). And well, leaving a pillow for him, it was quite obvious he couldn't pass that up. So.. logically.. someone had left the note on purpose. And whoever had left the note would most likely be the owner of the garment he had been using to rest on.   
  
Slowly he tore his eyes away from the card and looked at what was in his other occupied hand. Like any teenage boy with half a brain and a hand full of hormones; our favorite red head's heart skipped a beat as he read the name on the t-shirt.   
  
For the first time in a long time, Jiroh allowed himself to stare at Atobe.. half naked Atobe.. running back and fourth.. sweat dripping off his body..  
  
~  
  
Kabaji watched with mild surprise as the person he had just been about to sit next to got up and almost literally ran for the change rooms, his face beat red and for some odd reason he appeared to be pulling the front of his shirt down to cover his crotch.   
  
Kabaji didn't think about it too much though.. Then again he doesn't think about many things too much. Instead, he took the place on the bench that had just been recently occupied by Jiroh. After a few moments of watching the game unfolding in front of him, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a piece of paper next to a pile of cloth.   
  
Remembering that Atobe wasn't wearing a shirt, Kabaji came to the conclusion that it belonged to the team captain. His gaze then fell back on the other item on the bench; he managed to remark that the paper would fit almost perfectly in the pocket of the shirt.   
  
So, like a small child playing with different shaped blocks that you put in corresponding holes, Kabaji placed the card back where it belonged. But not before reading it of course.  
  
~  
  
A/N: BWA HA! More to come, much more! Wait till the other teams show up! 


	2. The haircut

A/N: Yay, new equally messed up chapter! Warning, I know even less about Mizuki's personality than I do Atobe's! This chapter is dedicated to Jenny-chan for being nit-picky in her corrections (which frankly didn't make much sense because we're both tired), as well as http://penal-tea.net for their in depth (and frankly amusing) character profiles as well their doujinshis. And finally to the tenipuri_yaoi community on live journal for inspiring me to write while I'm waiting for my trigun episodes to finish downloading.  
  
--  
  
Sakuno sat nervously, her hands clenched on her lap. She had just arrived at Super-Ultra-Mega-Extremely-Absolute-Cuts; the nearby barber shop. Coincidently it was also her new place of employment.   
  
Today was her first day and despite the fact she had been given a post that almost promised she would not have to work, butterflies insisted on making themselves known within her stomach. The fact that her supervisor, who happened to be the only other person present besides Sakuno, had just departed for a lunch break, did not help said ailment.   
  
After reassuring herself no one was going to show up, her unsteady "calm" was shattered into a million little tiny pointy bits, as the bell announcing someone's arrival rang.  
  
Sakuno turned to see her very unlucky costumer. Upon recognizing him, her stomach plummeted towards oblivion. She, of course, recognized the almighty Atobe Keigo from her cheerleading at Seigaku's game against his team. She was also painfully aware of his obsession with his hair, among other aspects of himself.   
  
"Make this quick, I have places to be," he said coldly. All she could do was nod vigorously before placing the plastic around his neck. She proceeded to pick up her scissors and spray bottle, then not do much else. The minutes stretched as she tried to find a place to start.   
  
"What's taking so long?"   
  
All she could say where a few umms and uhhs before she admitted to him that she couldn't see anything wrong with his current hair-cut.   
  
"Don't be foolish! It is blatantly obvious the horrendous state my hair is in! Now fix it or I will leave without paying you!"  
  
No! Not her first customer! She couldn't just let him leave. She had to make enough money to buy a top of the line racket, than Ryoma would finally notice her!   
  
With renewed determination, she approached his head with the scissors… and froze with fear only inches from his hair. She could do it! She had to, she just needed faith. So she closed her eyes and collected herself. This would be no problem.   
  
And so, with renewed confidence, she made her first cut. While this was a triumph within itself, it would prove to be a colossal failure for our poor Atobe. Because, you see, our dear Sakuno forgot to open her eyes!  
  
~  
  
Kabaji watched wearily as his fellow team mates ran about preparing the training facility for the arrival of the opposing teams. It was surprising how a few threats from Atobe could encourage people.   
  
Why wasn't Kabaji, Atobe's right hand man, not helping out you ask? Well he had a higher purpose. He needed to acquire knowledge on a certain subject. Kabaji may not be the smartest shoe in the store but he could always be expected to learn about what was foreign to him. And said foreign subject just happened to be the meaning of "uke". And he had to be subtle about it. Well, as subtle as someone like Kabaji could be.  
  
So far his plan to discover the meaning of the word had consisted of asking his team-mates. There's nothing wrong with being direct, right? But sadly, the majority of his peers where running about, scrubbing this, arranging that, and could not be bothered with Kabaji's child-like questioning. The only one, besides himself, who was not participating, was Jiroh. He had come out of the change room looking flushed and mildly ashamed. He then proceeded to take his place on the bench to brood about who knows what. When Kabaji had approached him with the inquiry, the red-head decided it was an opportune moment to not only evade any mention of ukes, but to run in fear at the mention of them.   
  
So poor Kabaji was left standing in the middle of the court looking perplexed.  
  
~  
  
The Seigaku team arrived on time at exactly 12:30pm; Tezuka could not tolerate lateness in the presence of his rival, could he? Sadly it had all been futile, for he was met with the fact that said arrogant, spoiled, narcissistic, extremely fuck-worthy male was not in the team line up when they arrived. Oshitari explained that their captain had an urgent errand and he would return before the tournament commenced.  
  
Oh well.  
  
The team took their places on the sidelines, and after only a few minutes they became bored and began to wander about. Eiji was dragging Oishi around on a hunt for "the secret treasure of Hyotei™" buried somewhere on the school grounds. Ryoma and Kawamura where listening to Momo tell his story of how he had taught some pro tennis player the Dunk Smash serve, and he was now winning championships with it. Kawamura was listening avidly while Ryoma's eyes surveyed his surroundings. He watched with mild curiosity as Kabaji approached Eiji and Oishi. He seemed to be asking them something, and judging from the odd shade Oishi had just turned, as well as Eiji's nervous giggles, the prodigy suspected it may have something do to with their unsubtle "marriage" as some where now calling it behind their backs. But why would Kabaji know anything about it? Granted the only people who seemed to think it was a secret where the couple, the Hyotei member didn't strike him as the type to pick up on something like that, and especially question about it.  
  
Having lost interest in Momo's story before it had even started, Ryoma headed towards the small group, followed by an annoyed voice.  
  
"Hey! I wasn't finished! Get back here!!"   
  
Completely ignoring the loud shouts of Momo-chan had become second nature to almost everyone on the team, so Oishi (who at this point was hyperventilating) nearly jumped two feet into the air when the youngest player appeared without warning next to him.   
  
Ryoma simply looked from Eiji's blushing face to Oishi's purple-tinted one, and even to Kabaji's blank expression, waiting for an explanation. When none was given, he became bored once more, turned, and left with an annoyed "mada mada dane."  
  
~  
  
Kabaji frowned; the couple hadn't helped at all. The taller one had mumbled something about maybe asking someone else, before more or less running away, pulling the shorter one with him. If he didn't know better he would think they where afraid of him. He shrugged mentally and continued onto his next victim.   
  
~  
  
Back in the barbershop of horrors, things where much more tense. Well not so much tense as completely crazy. The inevitable had come and Atobe had discovered a large portion of his hair to be missing. The normally composed and calm team captain was now yelling about suing Sakuno for all she was worth. He was also resisting the urge to throw an all out hissy-fit and become violent.   
  
Actually, this restraint was completely gone by the time he had picked up a pair of scissors and was about to induce bodily harm (as the courts would put it) on our poor barber-in-training. Luckily for her, the tinkling of the entrance bell diverted the crazed captain's attention. In the doorway stood a young man sporting the most trauma-inducing sweater known to mankind.  
  
The silence of the shop was broken by Mizuki's stifled laughter. Atobe's face contorted in anger as he turned the scissors on St. Rudolph's team captain.   
  
The laughter instantly stopped. Mizuki's face went completely serious, well minus the ever-so slight smirk that could only be detected if you knew his manipulating ways well.   
  
"I heard the commotion from outside and decided to investigate. From the looks of it, this could easily be construed as assault, Atobe-kun."   
  
Atobe slowly lowered the scissors, frowning. How he hated logic.   
  
"Now don't you have someplace to be, hmmm?" Mizuki said soothingly.   
  
Hyotei's team captain slowly nodded almost in a daze. "But what about my hair?" he asked, coming back to reality.  
  
Mizuki simply grinned. "That can be dealt with." 


	3. The hat

Oshitari watched the "opportunity to practice" dissipate into a sea of chaos on the Hyotei grounds. Fudomine had shown up only a short time after Seigaku, and yet Atobe was nowhere to be found. Granted, the tennis facilities were top of the line, but there were certainly not enough courts to host 3 teams playing simultaneously. So as expected of 24 or so energetic young boys, things where getting out of hand.  
  
Now don't get the wrong idea, the teams are all generally well behaved (unnaturally so) but things still were escalating with no end in sight. Many arguments had ensued, mostly between the two visitor teams. All Oshitari had caught was that someone had done something with a bike and there may or may not have been grip tape involved. He really wasn't sure.  
  
The two captains weren't helping much either. They happened to be standing side by side, not saying anything. Many, including himself, suspected they were somehow communicating, but there was no way to be sure.  
  
Oshitari sighed inwardly, concluding his observation of the situation, and then proceeded to try to bring order to the group.  
  
Atobe stood outside the gates to the tennis courts, pacing back and forth. He hated to admit his anxiety, especially with Mizuki watching him with mild amusement, but it was near impossible to concentrate on maintaining a cool air at the moment. He was torn between going into the court and playing off his new appearance as the latest trend, or running home and never seeing the light of day again. While the second thought was considerably more appealing, one thing stood in the way of him favouring said choice. What, you ask? Well, every time Atobe's eyes wandered past the gates of the school, a rather annoying sight met them. Not just annoying, more like infuriating. Because, you see, Atobe's most treasured item was currently being sullied by the mere presence of a certain team captain. A team captain with little to no skill, an arrogant personality, and worse yet, he had a dumb haircut! Not that Atobe could really dock points for the latter problem, but that wasn't the point. The point was that Tachibana was getting all lovey-dovey with HIS Tezuka!  
  
Atobe froze as he saw Tachibana shift his weight in the direction of his darling. This was too much! He had to intervene. So, taking a deep breath, he put on his most 'I'm the greatest person in the world and you know it' smirk, and then marched through the gates, closely followed by an extremely amused Mizuki.  
  
Oshitari breathed an internal sigh of relief as he heard someone yell out "Atobe- buchou's back!"  
  
But much like the tiny little fruit-flies of our world, his joy was very short-lived; squished into oblivion, left twitching and flat; killed by the absurdity of the thing adorning Atobe-sama's head.  
  
Apparently his reaction wasn't merely his own; for the first time that day, the court was completely silent. All, save Kabaji, had their mouths open in awe, and some in horror. Because, you see, Mizuki had lent Atobe a hat. Not just any hat. No, this was a hat that could strike fear into the hearts of grown men and small puppies alike. It caused seizures in the elderly and weak of heart. It could be seen from space and cause one to go blind if one should stare too long. Yes, boys and girls. It was the purple hat of doom.  
  
--  
  
A/N: Who here thinks I lack sanity? ... I thought so! Well I'm sorry for the long wait and the very short chapter. I have a lot of free time so hopefully it'll pick up a bit. I hope you enjoyed Atobe's tendency to exaggerate. Oh and to those of you curious as to what Atobe's hat really looks like, picture Mizuki's sweater! Or better yet, look at the picture I drew (click on my profile to see it) 


End file.
